


Hate to Love You

by mysterixn



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hatred, Illidan has feelings, Mentions of Smut, There will be Porn, Unrequited Love, like one whole curse word!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 03:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterixn/pseuds/mysterixn
Summary: Illidan wishes he could resolve things with Maiev, after all their time hating each other. She does not wish the same... yet?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Legion... but pretending nothing is getting attacked for 30 minutes. Idk what a timeline is.
> 
> This is my very first WoW fic! Illidan is just... too good.

Illidan was no stranger to waiting. Thousands of years of damnation and emptiness had forced him to gain some patience, so he could stand perhaps a few minutes of waiting.

He was so sure of himself, normally. Here, though, he felt uncomfortable. There was too much laughter, too much happiness in the rooms around them - it was never for him.

Illidan glanced over, and saw Khadgar looking calm and composed, staring into the distance at nothing.

_Seriously, why did he have to be here too?_

“Are you going to leave at some point?” Illidan asked. He was not looking forward to being in present company when the person he was waiting for arrived.

Khadgar chuckled softly. “I will. I was just keeping you company in the meantime.”

Illidan's laugh rumbled forth, deep and amused. “Keep _me_ company? You don't know what's good for you, mage. I dislike most company.”

“Company is good for everyone. Being alone produces uncomfortable thoughts. Though…” Khadgar looked at him. “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you these things. You’re already quite aware of them.”

Illidan grunted in response, and they descended into silence once more. He knew Khadgar was likely only around him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble. Being a demon had those kinds of consequences in the real world.

The halls of the Violet Citadel echoed with laughter and chatter as people discussed plans and regaled stories, making plans to eat together later and talk more. Illidan and Khadgar sat in a room upstairs, where the noise was quieter, but still present around them. It juxtaposed the quiet in the room, making it feel less awkward.

A knock on the door almost startled Illidan - he had let himself get complacent, sitting in a quiet room - and he looked at Khadgar, who nodded, and in a flash of light, disappeared. Illidan stood, took the briefest moment to contemplate what the hell he was doing, and opened the door.

Maiev stood outside the door in her Warden armor, glaive in hand. She tilted her head up and down, giving Illidan a once-over, and strode into the room. Illidan saw a couple people peering up the stairs, having watched Maiev walk past, and those who knew her stared incredulously at Illidan. He shut the door quickly, and turned to face Maiev.

With her armor on, he could never see her expressions. He never knew what she was feeling, or how she was processing things - he could only guess, and hope he was right. And right now, she didn’t seem very happy.

Turns out, he was right. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t bury this in your throat,” she said, gesturing with her glaive. “You did just lock the two of us in a room, and it’s not like they’ll hear your dying sounds over the ruckus downstairs.”

Illidan, careful not to genuinely anger her, did not laugh like he wanted to. “I do not wish for you to kill me, Maiev. I only asked you to come here to talk. And the door isn't locked.”

Maiev lowered her weapon, though she did not rest it on her belt. “Oh, what a relief. Well then. Proceed with what you wish to say, and then I will contemplate killing you.”

Damn, did he love her wit.

It was… odd, for sure, for Illidan to love Maiev. He blamed it on the lack of company for 10,000 years except for her. She was always by his cell. Always near him. Always watching him. She was obsessed with him, while not in a very good way, and he relished the attention.

He had never seen her without her armor on. Maiev was a night elf, like him, but he had never loved another except Tyrande. He had never paid attention to other night elf women, and had no expectations for what she looked like. His traitorous brain kept picturing Tyrande’s face, but with different hair - perhaps blue, or purple, or…

Fuck.

Illidan stared at Maiev. Even with her armor on, she _felt_ attractive. Deadly was his kind of sweet, and no one looked more deadly than Maiev in her fierce armor, with her one-of-a-kind weapon.

Right. He was supposed to be saying words.

“I… would like to make things right between us.”

If her facemask were not on, Illidan suspected he would see shock, and mild amusement spread across her face. “Illidan fucking Stormrage, demon hunter supreme, murderer of many, including _my best friends_ , wants to apologize? Spare me, Betrayer. I have no time for your games.” Maiev stalked to the door, reaching for the handle, but Illidan gripped her wrist tightly.

“You are nothing without me, Maiev,” Illidan said quietly. “I know this.”

She turned to look at him, and it felt like she was glaring. “Speak for yourself. You are so obsessed with revenge and murder that you would send us all to die if it meant you got to face Sargeras. You know nothing of loyalty and duty.”

Illidan curled his lip. “You are still so naive after all this time, Maiev. Have I not lent my Illidari to your cause? Have I not cooperated with you and your _Alliance_ in order to save this world? I seek to destroy the wretched creator of demons, not to annihilate all life. And unlike you, I have sacrificed _everything_ for my cause. You run around chasing phantoms of the past who you think are your enemies.”

“I do not want your friendship, Betrayer. I do not want to like you. I have despised you for over ten thousand years. Do not underestimate my power to continue doing so.” Maiev wrenched her wrist from his grasp, her glaive hovering dangerously near his throat.

“Are you not tired of this? You seek to destroy me, yet the last time you did so, you became a ghost of yourself. You don’t know who you are without me,” Illidan said.

The glaive came closer to his throat, one of the points nearly touching his skin. “Yes I do. I don’t need a demon to give me purpose.”

Illidan chuckled softly. “Except you have already done so.” He looked down at her glaive, then back at her mask, trying to meet her eyes. “I will not hurt you unless you wish it. Put your weapon down.”

“Unless I wish it? How kind of you, but I don’t trust any word you say.”

He sighed softly. “I am well aware, Maiev.” Illidan took a step back, and she did not follow, but did keep her glaive up, ready to attack him at any moment.

He realized this was a hopeless endeavor. Both of them were marvellously good at holding grudges, and Maiev would not be moved from her hatred of him. Not immediately, and likely not ever.

He decided he wanted to see her face. Just once.

Illidan reached up, his hand moving towards her helm, and Maiev took a step back quickly. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“Take your helm off,” he said.

Maiev scoffed at him. “I am standing in the presence of a dangerous demon, and you want me to remove my armor? Illidan, you are getting far too arrogant. I do _not_ trust you.”

Illidan was determined, though. Just to see her face one time, before he never tried to speak to her again. If his attempts were futile anyway, he wanted to get something out of it. He chuckled softly. “So be it,” he said, grabbed her free hand gently, and tugged her towards him. She was caught off guard, and fell towards him. He caught her easily, then tugged her helm off.

Her eyes were a soft, glowing silver. Her hair fell gently around her face, colored blue at the ends, and a blue tattoo ran up and down the right side of her face, across her eyelid. Definitely not like Tyrande, and it was beautiful.

Illidan stared for a moment, committing her face to memory. As she started to struggle away from him, her glaive dangerously close to slicing open his leg, he leaned in, and gently placed a kiss on her cheek.

He decided to do one final thing. She would never accept him, so there was no harm in her knowing. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I love you.”

He let her go, and walked out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maiev figures her crap out, and Illidan tries not to feel like an inexperienced fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha. Second chapter accomplished! Maiev is sooooo hard to write, she has almost no personality other than hating Illidan -_-

Maiev didn’t speak to him for three weeks.

They fought demons together. They needed to, in order to defeat the endless swarms of them. But she never uttered a word in his presence, and he avoided talking to her, too.

Illidan figured that would be alright. He had resolved that Maiev would hate him until the end of time. He’d probably just continue thinking about Tyrande, anyway, considering he had thought about her throughout his entire jail time.

Except… he didn’t. He didn’t think about Tyrande once. All he could picture was Maiev’s face. He wondered what the tattoo meant to her - all night elf tattoos meant something important, just like his scars represented him. Was it loyalty, perhaps? Duty? Pride? And her eyes were so striking that he couldn’t get the color off his mind whenever he looked at her.

Illidan thought about her incessantly, more than he had even in the ten thousand years they had spent together - unwillingly, of course, but it was still a great deal of time nonetheless. Her skin had felt soft beneath his lips as he kissed her - was the rest of her skin just as soft beneath her armor? Perhaps she had scars, like him, telling stories across her arms and back. What did she look like when she blushed? Would it be a pale blue flush across her cheeks, or bright pink?

He watched her as much as possible while they were fighting. Most of the time she had her cloak on, but sometimes she didn’t, and Illidan got a better view of how she moved. Compared to her lithe, quick form, he was a hulking beast, far bigger than her, and it drove his thoughts to more intimate places. He had tugged her close against him the one time, and felt how small she was against him, but that was with her armor on. What about her beneath him, bare and warm? Or astride his lap?

Clearly, he could let Maiev know none of this. And that was fine for him. He had learned patience, and the futility of trying to speed up time. But sometimes, late at night, when everyone was asleep, he would find a place for himself, and think of her, and couldn’t control himself, aching for release as he thought about touching her and ravaging her.

One time, after he moaned out her name, he thought he saw a shadow nearby, but he ignored it.

Three weeks after Illidan had attempted to talk to Maiev in a somewhat reasonable manner, Khadgar brought him a letter. It was an enchanted letter, and when Illidan opened it, a voice spoke the words aloud to him.

“Tonight, at the Violet Citadel. Same place as last time.”

Maiev’s voice.

* * *

 

Having no indication of when she wanted him to show up, Illidan arrived in the room they had been in three weeks ago as soon as the sun set, and resolved himself to once again patiently wait. He had seen Maiev lingering with Khadgar and a hero at Deliverance Point, so he knew he would be there before her.

Illidan needed to be prepared, after all.

The room had a bed, as well as a table with chairs, which is where he and Khadgar had sat last time. This time, Illidan sat on the end of the bed, facing the door, ready to…

Ready to what? Greet Maiev with open arms? She still hated him, so that was unlikely. Prepare himself to fight her? Perhaps she had only wanted to meet him one on one so she could enact her revenge again, which would be rather upsetting, and a tad boring, since she’d already killed him once before. Maybe… she felt the same way about him as he felt for her? No. That was even more unlikely than her not hating him.

He had no idea what she wanted from him.

There was a knock on the door. Illidan’s heart thundered in his chest, and he growled softly at himself. What was he, a young, attractive night elf who had never interacted with a woman before? No. He was a demon. A monster. Unwantable.

He dug his claws into his hands, and answered the knock with “Come in.”

The door opened, and Maiev strode in, and _sweet fuck_ , she wasn’t wearing her armor. Illidan was glad for demon skin at this point, for demons did not blush, and he was sure he’d be blushing at this moment otherwise. She apparently wore leggings and a plain tunic under her armor, which happened to hug her body quite perfectly. Why she was walking around with no armor, he had no idea - though he never wore armor either, so he was one to talk - but damned if it didn’t fuel his obsession with her.

Shutting the door behind her, she leaned back against it. Neither of them spoke for a moment; instead, they stared, waiting for the other to speak. Illidan felt the silence become increasingly awkward. He decided to fix that.

“Why are you here, Maiev,” he said, more as a statement than a question. Better to show disinterest than appear overeager.

She smirked. “I hate you, Illidan.”

Illidan groaned. “I am quite aware of this fact. If that’s the only reason you asked me here, I’m leaving,” he said, standing up. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

“You don’t really love me. You’re a demon, and demons know no love or kindness, only murder. You only love me like you loved Tyrande, which was superficially, and stupidly. You never deserved her, anywa-”

His wings snapped open to their full span, darkening the room, and he snarled, pinning her against the wall. Fury coursed through him, his scars burning bright, and his claws dug into her shoulder. “You do _not_ tell me what I deserve, Warden. You know nothing of the pain I have suffered.” His eyes flared, and he knew his anger was on the verge of turning violent.

That was all he knew. Pain. Rage. Betrayal. Tyrande had chosen his brother, not him. His own people had abandoned him. Everyone had turned away from him.

“Is it so wrong for me to seek love?” Illidan growled. “No one has ever come to me because they wanted to. No one has ever wanted me. All-” He stopped himself. His wings folded back in, and he turned away from Maiev, stepping away from her. “All I want right now is you, Maiev.”

Illidan glanced down, and saw blood on his claws from gripping her shoulder. He had hurt Maiev in his rage. She didn’t deserve a monster like him.

He reached for the door handle. He was done trying to negotiate with a woman who hated him.

Maiev put her hand on his arm, and he froze. Glancing over, he saw her nearly glaring at him, yet with a touch of concern in her eyes. “You're not going anywhere unless I say so, Illidan.”

Illidan scoffed. “So you're my mother now, too. Perhaps you think I should get a bedtime story?”

Maiev almost looked taken aback. “No, I mean-- stay.” She furrowed her brow, and looked up at him. “Please.”

With her face so adorably concerned and her insistent tone, Illidan could not say no. He took a step back from the door, and took a moment to look at her. Her shirt was slightly torn on her shoulder from his claws, and she looked to be flushed. There was a soft blue hue on her cheeks. Was that… blushing he saw?

“Alright, then,” Illidan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why am I here?”

Maiev seemed to struggle with words for a moment, and Illidan got to see emotions flit across her face for the first time as she thought of what to say. _She must feel so out of place,_ he thought. _She never has to show her face to anyone, but now I'm watching her every emotion._

The thought that he was the only one to see this sent a small thrill down his spine and wings.

“I have been… thinking since last time. I'm sorry I insulted you. I was unsure if you actually meant what you said, and…”

Illidan snorted. “You thought you had to anger me in order to make me say what I really mean. Brilliant, Maiev.” He glanced at her shoulder, where tiny spots of blood had soaked into her shirt. “I hurt you in the process. You probably could have found a better way.”

Maiev looked at the small cuts, then shrugged. “I'm not wearing armor. I expected you'd hurt me no matter what.”

His scars flared green for a moment as her statement angered her - how dare she assume that he would be a danger to her? - but then he sighed. Of course he would be a danger. He was a demon. No one, especially not her, would ever trust him.

Maiev saw his angry reaction, and she sighed, too. “I am not here to make you angry. I told you I have been thinking since last time. I assumed that after all this time, you would still love Tyrande, so you couldn't possibly… love me.”

He took a small step towards her, losing patience. “Do you have a point with your rambling, Maiev?” he growled softly.

Stepping closer seemed to make her blush. Interesting.

“Yes, I do,” she said, and took another step closer. They were mere inches away from each other, her breasts almost at perfect height for him to reach out and touch, and he could just barely feel her breath against his chest. She was hardly a short woman - night elves were shockingly tall, after all - but neither was he short, being a demon. Maiev still appeared so small compared to him, and he resisted the urge to reach out and tug her close.

It seemed, though, that she had about the same idea. A moment later she stood on her tiptoes, rested her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

 _Soft._ That was all Illidan could think. Her lips felt so gentle and sweet against his own. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arms around her, and crushed her against him, revelling in the taste of her mouth, and the warmth of her body against his.

They parted a few moments later, and Illidan released her to stand on her own again. Maiev looked pleased with herself, her silver eyes glinting happily, and he continued to bask in the moment, wanting to commit it to memory for eternity.

Then he felt angry again. Why, after knowing how he felt, kiss him like that, when she didn’t even reciprocate the feelings? Was it to mess with him? Was this her new way of tormenting him, by preying on his emotions?

Illidan growled. “You don’t even feel the same way as I do. Why the fuck would you do something like that?” He took a step back from her, not wanting to hurt her if he got upset again, yet he also didn’t want to be so close to her anymore.

Maiev looked bewildered. “Really, Illidan? Has a woman ever kissed you for absolutely no reason before? I thought you would-- that was to make you realize I _do_ feel the same way!”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” Illidan snarled back. “You hate me. You’ve hated me for over ten thousand years. You want nothing more than to see me dead.”

“I love you, Illidan!” she yelled, and he froze, staring at her.

 _She loves me_.

Really?

Oh.

Illidan stood there and stared in surprise, his anger fading. Maiev had now flushed a darker shade of blue, clearly embarrassed by her revelation, and struggled to meet his eyes.

He took a step closer to her once more. Very gently, Illidan reached out and cupped her face with one hand, careful where he placed his claws. “Truly, Maiev? You wish to love me?”

Maiev looked surprised by his gentleness, but tilted her head slightly into his hand. “Yes. I do love you. You were right… when I first killed you, I had no purpose in my life. My work was done. I thought it was because I had finally gotten rid of you like I wanted for so long, but then you came back and I felt… relief. I saw you, and years of anger came back, but also a sense of want and happiness. I didn’t know how to deal with it, until now.”

Illidan laughed softly. “You really are nothing without me.”

She blushed even more furiously, but he knew she couldn’t deny it. While he had spent 10,000 years in a jail cell, she _had_ been his Warden the whole time. She had talked to him, sometimes. Most of the time, she had just watched him. A pretty intense crush was a rather likely outcome after ten thousand years of staring.

Apparently, Maiev had had enough of talking, because moments later she drew Illidan into a kiss again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write Illidan angry... it turns out it's way harder to write than see it visually (go look at the Rejection of the Gift cinematic if you wanna see what I was aiming for, and don't mind spoilers/have already played all of Legion)


End file.
